Adjective
Resembling, characteristic of, or involving corn flakes.
Usage- Informal
- Examples
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More examples (4)
She is 23, five up on me. Wide, placid face with pale cornflakey freckles, mild blue eyes, heavy white arms and legs, partial to short skirts and tight sweaters.
“I’ve tried and tested lots of different fake tans but my faithful friend is Boots No 18 Speedtan which is only £2.79 a bottle. The only downside with them is that they smell foul — they all seem to have this coppery, cornflakey smell which absolutely reeks.”
Taking vitamin supplements must be the answer. Perhaps I’d stop bellowing at the kids and make everything a game - that’s what the books say, ha ha—and when I emptied dustbins, they would no longer drip with cornflakey milk or coffee dregs.
‘Phil, look me in the eye and tell me those black cornflakey bits aren’t better out than in?” […] “Yeah, but not all at once. It trickles in under gentle gravitational pressure.” / “And what trickles out?” / “Well, obviously there’s shit and stuff to start with, but every now and then you get this incredible warm sensation followed by a black cornflakey thing that’s been stuck up there for years.”
“I think I killed it.” / “Well,” said Weasel, “if you didn’t”—he stomped on the bug, making a faint, cornflakey crackle—“I did.”
More examples (1)
I might be trying not to have any morals when it comes to shagging around, but I sure as hell don’t sleep with people called ‘Colin’. It’s such a stupid, slow, cornflakey kind of name. People name their coldsores Colin.
They moved into a shed outside my bedroom window, with bunk beds and a dangerous paraffin heater and two stinky spaniels with cornflakey eyes . . .
More examples (7)
“Judy, did you put cornflakes in that chili you brought over last night?” her friends said to her. “Something in there looked sort of cornflakey.”
Even industrial sanding and/or drilling equipment cannot shift the iron residue of those dried-on and neglected golden flakes of corn. Thus, armed with this, the arcane knowledge of a thousand students, Mr Townshend would, throughout his stay, go ahead and order bowlfuls of Kellogg’s on room service. Lots of bowlfuls. Packets of the stuff. Mr Kellogg could have retired on the profits, if only he wasn’t dead. But Pete wouldn’t eat them, oh no. He had much better cornflakey plans.
“It was nice that your dad let you come out with us,” I said as we walked through the woods, kicking up cornflakey bundles of leaves with every step.
“How are the cornflakes?” It’s the only thing that springs to mind. / “Cornflakey. Would you like some?”
She took so long that he’d transformed back into Walter – a gooey, cornflakey, shivering Walter – when she unlocked the back door and peered out looking for him.
While you’re at it, snaffle a bag of its exemplary afghan biscuits – such cornflakey, chocolatey goodness!
We’d always pass by the Kellogg’s factory on Barton Dock Road, a red-brick building that used to bear a huge red ‘K’. As we approached this Mancunian landmark, a distinctive toasty, cornflakey smell would waft into the car, a comforting sign that we weren’t too far from our destination.